Folk Song
by Sol's Darkness
Summary: The story of Lavender Town's strange and mysterious music… and it's supernatural figures.


Folk Song

…

Jamie Penn looked with pride at the pile of stones that was soon to become Pokemon Tower. As mayor of Lavender Town, when he had seen that wild pokemon didn't get burials, he had been shocked at the attitude of the townsfolk. Well, Pokemon Tower would change that. Burials for all pokemon in the best accommodations. He had received the support of all of his citizens, to Penn's glee.

It would be beautiful. Soft lavender stone with a beautiful, light, attractive scent, called 'noblestone', as it was only found in the noble purple town itself. Murals of Mew, Giratina, and Arceus at the top, painted by the finest. (The two creators, as well as the one that cares for the underworld.) Gravestones made to perfection. A jewel or two that represented the pokemon's type or types.

If this didn't appease _it_, nothing would.

…

Every citizen of Lavender Town, though it was midnight, had all of their lights on and were awake, huddled together. Too afraid to fall asleep. Afraid of the growls. Afraid that a scream would, once again, tear through the night if one of them closed their eyes. Afraid of the nightmares. Afraid of the laughs.

The tower couldn't be finished fast enough.

…

The construction workers were working every second possible. The sooner the tower was finished, the sooner the murders would stop.

…

Penn stood, somber, at the foot of the finished grave tower. There had been many disappearances in the time it took to complete Pokemon Tower.

The families of the vanished stood to his right, in front of the blood red and light purple ribbon across the entrance. An ancient knife made out of a black meteorite metal was in a little girl's hand. Since the beginning of Lavender Town's recorded history, that ceremonial knife was used to open sacred, blessed, or, as of now, extremely important things. Things, or something in particular, that could save lives.

Penn forced a smile onto his face and held his hand out to the little girl. She gingerly took it and stepped forth to the stretch of fabric. With a _chhhhh_, the only thing that barred them from their salvation was cut. The crowd erupted in cheers.

…

All families were settling in for the night, for the first time in forever. No staying up all night in fear, no waiting for the scream of the stupid or the suicidal.

No attempting the block out the taunting laughs and growls of the vengeful spirit trying to lure the weak-willed to sleep.

And Penn closed his eyes with a peaceful smile.

…

A shriek shattered the air and the rose-tinted glasses that everyone had on.

Penn felt his blood run cold. No… no… the tower should have appeased it!

There weren't supposed to be anymore deaths!

And Penn felt his breath get knocked out of him. He stared up at the cause.

The red-orange eyes of light shining out of the darkness. A fanged mouth of the same light underneath it.

And then it vanished.

…

Papers were strewn over the floor of Jamie Penn's house.

He hadn't even had breakfast that morning. He hadn't taken the nap that all members of the noble purple town did to catch up on sleep. He kept on searching trough the ancient-looking texts. What… why… how…

What is it…?

Why was it doing this…?

How did they stop it…?!

He picked up one of the last couple files he hadn't read. It was some sort of fairy tail.

_Once upon a time, there was a fresh, new little town. It was just built, and it was called Lavender Town, for that was the color and scent of a strange stone that only appeared there. The leader of the town was old, yet he ruled with a just hand, and many believed that the old man was from the descent of the royal bloodline blessed by Arceus itself. So, it was also called the 'noble purple town'._

_The leader had a beautiful daughter, who was called simply, 'Nightingale', for her voice was as beautiful as the birds'. Pokemon and human alike flocked around her when she sang, and even the wind went still, and the crickets quieted their chirping._

_And, one day, she was singing alone in the nearby woods, when a shadowy, small pokemon appeared from behind a tree. She couldn't see it well, but it had an aura of power._

_"Hello," Nightingale whispered. It stared at her._

_"What is your name?" She tried, once again._

"I am Wem."_ She heard it say, for back then mankind still knew how to listen. _"Make me a song."

_"Make you a song? But I cannot off the top of my head." She answered._

"Then meet me here in three days. Have your song ready by then."_ And Wem flew off, disappearing into the shadows._

_And so Nightingale consulted her father. Her father was very disturbed by this news, for this Wem sounded like it would bring nothing good. But he also felt that it would be a grave mistake to ignore the pokemon, so he allowed Nightingale to go._

_Nightingale worked sunup and sundown to create the perfect song, but she couldn't. Her mind was strangely devoid of ideas._

_And then, on the day of the deadline, it struck her. The perfect melody. It wasn't her normal light, fluttery song, but it felt right._

_When she arrived at the spot that Wem was to meet her, the shadowy pokemon was already there._

"I trust you are ready?" _It asked._

_Nightingale nodded, and so began her song._

_Its lilting melody filled the air. She somehow sounded like she was singing many different notes, going incredibly high and impossibly low. Wem closed its fiery eyes and gently floated downwards. As she struck the last note, its delicate, long feet gently touching the ground._

_And then the warriors that had been hiding amount the bushes cast a net over the creature, and Nightingale's father emerged from the undergrowth. He drew a ceremonial knife made of a black, skyrock iron and sliced the neck of Wem open._

_Nightingale cried out for her father to cease, but he didn't hesitate to kill the creature, for he had recognized the name. It was ancient lore, after all, that Wem was the embodiment of all the evils in the world. It brought strife and suffering where ever it went, and death followed closely behind._

_However, as soon as the knife spilt the pokemon's blood, a flash of light erupted from the body and Wem disappeared, and instead a pink pokemon was overhead._

_And that was the birth of Mew, for every darkness needs a light of equal strength. But all what was left of Wem was a fiery face, and only Nightingale saw it fly away._

_That night, Nightingale was singing the song she had created softly to herself, and the remnant of Wem appeared. She looked at it, and it looked at her. It flew away with a growl._ "Leave now…"

_But she followed it._

_And when the parents of the now bloody girl came into her when they heard her scream, they found Nightingale, whose hands were bathed in crimson._

_Her father couldn't believe that his beautiful daughter would do such a thing, but her story of a ghost wasn't anything worth allowing her to escape punishment for. And so the standard punishment was given: her hands were the tool of murder, so her hands would go, and she would spend the rest of her life hanging from a noose._

_Her severed hands were mummified and buried alongside her._

_But that night, three more people were found dead and crimson-drowned in their beds._

_The town leader, in mourning for his daughter, did nothing. But, he had found in her room a single piece of paper. It contained the notes for a wordless song. And the next night, he lit a candle for his dead daughter and sung the song. It was lilting and heavy, haunting. It was the song Nightingale had sung for Wem._

_And that night, there was no death._

Penn's eyes were wide as he finished the suddenly concluded tale. Yes, this sounded promising.

The last file was also a score. Literally, it was the score to a piece of music.

_Nightingale's Mourning_

Nightingale was the name of the girl in the story…

There was a note scribbled on the back:

_Sing in front of candle as sun goes down once every 100 years to appease gho-. It will come an- - you a-ay. -l-ed as sa-if-e, beware_

It was very blurred, for it was old, and written in charcoal, as well as written in a hurried handwriting, like the writer didn't have much time.

Something felt wrong, but it was worth the risk to possibly save his citizens.

…

The haunting melody sprang surprisingly easily from Penn, though he didn't have a musical bone in his body. Like it wanted too fill the air.

He finished, but someone kept on singing. A woman's voice.

The doorknob rattled, and then there was a knock at the door.

Penn swallowed, and carefully cracked open the door. And then he was thrown back, and two white hands floated through the door. Strips of flesh were hanging down from the wrists, and the skin was shriveled. The nails were pointed.

One of then beckoned to the sky, and the singing grew louder. And two glowing orange-red eyes that looked as if they were made of fire glided in, and the area was darker around it. The shape of the darkness was similar to Mew's body, except it was more see-through.

And then he was floating himself, clutching at his neck. It was hard to breathe through the pressure around it. The hands covered his eyes.

A few seconds later, they peeled themselves off, and he found himself at the top of Pokemon Tower.

The ghost of Wem was floating in front of the mural. It turned back toward him, and grinned its fiery grin at him. It touched the picture of Mew.

A dark stain spread across it, and the Mew mural became a Wem mural. It laughed.

A dark purple glow surrounded a large patch of layered dirt for planting grass in what Penn recognized as a psychic. The singing was still echoing.

The dirt rose, a big, man-sized hole gaping in the floor.

The hands shoved him in.

And as the dirt collapsed on top of him, Jamie Penn, the human, listened. And he heard:

_"Thank you for volunteering. You will make a lovely guardian."_

The next day, all of the townsfolk were wondering where their mayor went. But none of them dared search the top of the tower, for something felt… off up there.

…

The ghost of Lavender Town, White Hand, and Buried Alive. :P

Wem (lame name, I know) did stop killing after Mr. Penn sung the song.

Wem: You know, I'm not the embodiment of evil! And my name is not 'lame'!

Sol: I know, I know. It was just a story device. A stupid legend of a stupid superstitious man. Don' worry, you're still awesome.

Wem: Good.

Sol: I normally don't use OCs, but it was necessary. :P let's just say that, for the game lore, Penn was hungry. Nightingale's hands had chosen Red to be his next meal and was guiding him up the tower before that part was removed. You can decide whether Red wins or not. I like to think that that little bunch of pixels that you get unusually attached to wins and escapes. :)

Wem: Review or I will haunt you…

Sol: Wem! Don't be violent and creepy! I love ya big guy, but that's scary. But please, Readers, review anyway and tell me whether you like the story or not!  
Oh, and Nightingale's Mourning is the Lavender Town theme.


End file.
